


how little words mean (when you're a little too late)

by magicandlight



Series: The States [19]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, Statetalia
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, American Civil War, Angst, Gen, POV Alternating, The Confederacy Sucks, but we knew that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicandlight/pseuds/magicandlight
Summary: The only possible way to describe the relationship he has with Elizabeth would be that they've always been something.
Relationships: Maryland/Virginia (Hetalia), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Pre-Relationship - Relationship
Series: The States [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/788712
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	1. Scott, 1861

The only possible way to describe the relationship he has with Elizabeth would be that they've always been _something_.

Best friends, allies, maybe-almost-sorta lovers. It's complicated. It's even more complicated when Sera is added to the equation or when they bring up that time during the revolution and the subsequent ignoring each other for two months after.

See, he thinks Liz loves him the way he loves her, but he's never quite sure, and the timing's never quite right. They're always caught in that maybe-maybe not stage.

But the important part is that they're always _something_.

ꤠ

Daniel leaves- _secedes from the union_ \- five days before Christmas. It's a mess made up of Will's bloodied knuckles and Del's cold stare, David's crossed arms and Scarlett's clenched fists. 

Scott can't think of a clearer way he could have said fuck you to all of them than the signature on the secession notice.

In January, Drew leaves. Then Flora. Then Josh. Scarlett. Evangeline. Austin.

ꤠ

Scott always goes to Elizabeth when he needs to work something out, or even just calm down. It's always the same, with Elizabeth sitting against her headboard and Scott laying with his head in her lap. 

Usually, she ends up playing with his hair, too, and he's almost certain she uses her gift on him sometimes. Scott doesn't call her out on it, though, because if he does she might stop. 

"I can't believe they'd do this to all of us. That they'd just- rebel against the _Constitution_."

Elizabeth's hand stops idly carding through his hair.

"Scott," she says evenly. "Where the hell in the Constitution does it forbid secession?"

Scott looks at her. "We're a Union, Liz. Indivisible, and all that?"

Elizabeth raises her eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that my star was a shackle. I entered this union of my own free will, and I should be allowed to leave of my own free will as well."

Scott recoils, the word _leave_ echoing in his mind.

"Are you going to leave?" He sits up. This isn't a discussion he can have lying in her lap.

Elizabeth leans away at his tone. "Excuse me?"

"Are you going to be a traitor too?"

Elizabeth stares at him. "You're a hypocrite," she finally bites out.

"What?"

"You know who you remind me of?" She doesn't wait for him to respond. "England."

Scott flinches.

"We were called traitors before, remember that? During the revolution?" She shakes her head. "Get out. I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Liz-"

"I said _get out_ , Scott."

ꤠ

They don't talk after that. Elizabeth ices him out completely.

It's not the first time they've fought, but they fight rarely enough that every time feels like the end of the world. 

Scott keeps thinking it'll get better, but it doesn't. Elizabeth's made her position clear, and maybe he should have expected that after the whole nullification thing with the Virginia and Kentucky Resolutions.

Every time they try to talk, they end up arguing over the same things.

And then the Battle of Fort Sumter happens, and Elizabeth leaves in the middle of the night two days later.

ꤠ

Elizabeth writes him a letter after, but all Scott reads is the first sentence before he burns it.

 _I'm sorry_. She had written, but she wasn't. She wasn't sorry.

He finds her violin on top of his bookcase, wonders how long it was there before Elizabeth had left.

He cradles it to his chest and allows himself to cry, just this once, for what he's lost.

ꤠ

The first time they meet on a battlefield, it isn't pretty.

Before, they'd always been on the same side. They aren't, anymore.

Scott can't bring himself to shoot her, and she can't shoot him either, but that doesn't stop them from fighting each other until they're both down in the mud.

He can't let her go on to kill his men, and she can't let him either.

They both know when the battle is won. Elizabeth lets up enough from where she has him pinned for him to be able to flip so her back is to the ground, grabbing her wrists and pushing them down.

Elizabeth tenses, testing his grip, and a year ago, _hell_ , a month ago, she would have had no trouble getting out of this.

Scott beats his worry back, trying not to think about the way Wes got called Virginia these days, trying not to wonder if she could die and not come back.

"You know, I almost thought you would leave too." Elizabeth murmurs softly.

Scott's jaw clenches. If he left- If he seceded, it would force Sera to leave too. The war would be over before it even began.

There are cruel things he could say right now about her. About not giving a single damn about Alfred, who raised her. About Sera, who was- well, _theirs_.

His heart aches. Instead of saying something cruel, he presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Elizabeth's eyes are wide, blue-green clear and bright like sea glass.

It leaves a bitter, coppery taste in his mouth. Scott lets go of her and struggles to his feet. "Then I guess you don't know me at all."

He takes one step away, then another. There's a finality in it, a goodbye as clear as if he said it aloud.

It feels like the end of an era.

He doesn't look back. Somehow, he knows Elizabeth doesn't either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So quick note about this fic: I'm planning to take mother of states down because I will be alternating between Scott and Liz's POVs for this. At some point, I will be taking the various MD/VA stories down because I am changing a lot of stuff about their backstories. I do plan to write at least one more MD/VA fic after this to cover their relationship & how they get together. Title is from Taylor Swift's Sad Beautiful Tragic. 
> 
> Chapter Notes: Yeah, for those of you who have read mother of states, Scott does come off as whiny here, simply because his problems aren't on the same scale as Liz's. However, Scott's feelings here are actually valid. Liz did leave him without saying goodbye and that hurt him. Her saying that she thought he would leave too and Scott's reaction is also pretty valid.


	2. Elizabeth, 1861

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The confederacy is his own warning, to be honest.
> 
> tw: threats of sexual assault. if you're uncomfortable reading it, stop before the line "I'm willing to make a deal with you."

Her and Scott have been dancing around each other since they were old enough to know what it meant to be in love with someone. Before, even. 

She knows that she could stop this, that she could just make a move, but she's done that. She'd done that and Scott stood her up, and as much as he didn't mean to, she can't go through that again. 

So they always stay the same. Always on that cliff's edge of _something_.

And sometimes, Elizabeth wonders if she's still that girl, the one standing alone at a party in her best dress, always, always waiting. 

ꤠ

Elizabeth knows that her own secession is a matter of _when_ , not _if_. Knows that eventually, David's resolve will weaken and he'll leave, because Scarlett and Daniel and David are not meant to stand by themselves. Caden has no one he's particularly close with to keep him in the north. She doesn't know where Tim and Kendall stand, whether Caleb would secede too, if Theo would ally himself with the south. 

If Wes notices anything wrong, he doesn't mention it. She's still fighting with Scott, so he doesn't have a chance to notice her withdrawing from everyone else, preparing herself for when her people decide that America itself is a tyrant.

It isn't a choice. Not really. She can pretend it is, they all can, but they have little choice in secession. They are bound to the will of the people by virtue of their nature, and that's all.

ꤠ

She collapses as soon as she crosses into the Confederacy and _screams_.

It had burned when she had pulled away from England during the revolution, and she knew it had hurt Sam worse, but they had been growing apart before the separation. 

This, though? Forcibly ripping herself out of the union? It's one of the worst things she's ever felt. Elizabeth isn't sure how Austin survived pain like this twice in thirty years. 

It takes a long time for Elizabeth to stand back up.

Whatever wound is on her back bleeds through her shirt, making it stick to her back uncomfortably.

She shrugs a jacket on to cover it once it's dried, not bothering to bite back her whimper at the motion since no one's around to hear it anyway.

Elizabeth climbs back on her horse.

ꤠ

The very first night in that house, she writes her first letter to Scott. 

It begins with _I'm sorry_ , and goes on to talk about everything that's happened.

She tells him about Jackson, about him knowing about Wes, about not being _Elizabeth_ to him, just _Virginia_. 

Jackson just... prefers to call them by their state names. 

It's not that they aren't used to being called by them. After all, their state names were their true names, and most officials- the governors, the presidents, their generals- prefer to call them by their state names because it reminds them of what they are. 

It's just that Alfred had always called them by their human names, and sometimes she misses being called Elizabeth and Lizzy instead of Virginia and Ginny.

She doesn't mind Jackson calling her Virginia, really, she writes. It's just... the way he says it. Elizabeth isn't quite sure what to make of it, that's all. 

Scott never responds. 

ꤠ

Scott says _then I guess you don't know me at all,_ but it sounds like goodbye. He leaves her in the mud and doesn't look back. Eventually, Elizabeth had to stop watching to see if he would look back at her.

Elizabeth swallows her grief, the hollowness that threatens to spill out of her, and steps into her role as State Leader. 

She writes Scott a letter. It comes back unopened, the wax seal unbroken, _return to sender_ written in Scott's spidery handwriting. 

She doesn't cry. 

ꤠ

All personifications have gifts. Elizabeth believes that some humans might even have watered downed versions of gifts, but that's just a little thought of hers. 

Her own abilities are simple. It makes sense to her that the mother of states has some control over emotions, that she can push people towards the calmer end of the spectrum with a little effort. She's not powerful, not really, and her abilities aren't useful the way some of the others' are, but she likes them. 

Jackson leaves her alone mostly because he respects what she is, she guesses. She is Virginia, the oldest of the south, mother of states, mother of presidents, and it is a dangerous thing to be on her bad side. He leaves her be, backs off when she intervenes. 

That changes the day she walks in on him backhanding Drew because when he doesn't stop, she does the only thing she can think of. 

She presses her hands against the bare skin of her neck and _makes_ him stop. She makes him stop, and in the process, she paints a target on her own back. 

ꤠ

_I'm scared, Scott. I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what he's capable of and that terrifies me._

ꤠ

Elizabeth is not someone who scares easily, and she hates that she allows Jackson to scare her.

It's just. She knows how easy it would be. Because she's weaker than she used to be, than she was before this war. She's small. Jackson's as tall as Alfred, possibly just as strong.

She sees the way he looks at her. Not just her, either. The way he looks at Scarlett. Evangeline, sometimes. Predatory. 

She keeps writing letters to Scott, even though he sends them back to her unopened, still marked with the wax seal she closes them with. Scott's the only one she could tell. She can't tell either of the twins, and the rest of the boys are too young to be burdened with her problems. The girls have their own problems to deal with. Wes is already worried enough about her. Writing letters to Scott is safe, maybe the only safe thing she has left. 

ꤠ

Jackson beats Evangeline bloody and tries to break the rest of them any way he can, and Elizabeth sits in her room and thinks _I could stop this_.

It'd be a deal with the devil, it would be a martyring, a sacrifice play.

She's the oldest, though. She's supposed to take care of the others, right?

The thought of Jackson touching her makes her sick, but she could do it for the others. If she freely offered whatever he wanted, he wouldn't have a reason to go after them, right?

ꤠ

_I can't decide if you would be proud of me or disgusted, but I don't know what else to do. It is the only plan I have. I'm sorry. You have to understand, I have to protect them any way I can. I can't fail them when they need me the most._

ꤠ

"I'm willing to make a deal with you."

Jackson's eyes flicker towards her filled with poorly-concealed interest.

Elizabeth takes another step forward. "Leave them alone, all of them, and you can do whatever you like with me."

Jackson tilts his head the same way Alfred does, though his smile is- something else. Something cruel. "Whatever I like?"

Elizabeth's hands clench into fists as he stands to make his way around the desk.

She stares at the wall as he circles around her like a wolf sizing up its prey.

When he stops behind her, every single instinct tells her to turn around, to not put her back to him. She bites her tongue. The tang of iron fills her mouth. 

Elizabeth does not shudder at the feeling of his breath on her neck, the feeling of his hand on her waist, thumb edging dangerously close to her breast.

"What makes you think that I couldn't just take whatever I wanted?" He whispers into her ear, nipping it painfully.

Her stomach drops as he steps away from her. "No deal, _Virginia_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter notes: the italics are pieces of Liz's letters to Scott. Liz's state ability is also brought up here. To clarify, Liz has a version of emotional manipulation/empathy which allows her to calm people. She can sense emotions but very vaguely, and it doesn't help her much. Super helpful when dealing with babies, not so much when dealing with angry evil nations.


	3. Scott, 1862

Life goes on. They all learn to deal with the war, and it becomes the new normal. Scott doesn't flinch when Wes is called Virginia, doesn't almost knock on Elizabeth's door when he finds something she'd like or when he's tired and stressed.

Sometimes he'll feel Elizabeth at battles. He doesn't look for her. Doesn't seek her out anymore.

He doesn't say anything about Sera wearing Elizabeth's pearl bracelet, about the way Sera twists it around her wrist with such a sad expression. He knows Elizabeth writes her letters, too, but he doesn't ask about them, and Sera doesn't volunteer any information.

Scott tries to take care of her. He carries her to bed when she falls asleep in the library or the war room surrounded by papers, makes sure she eats and sleeps and goes outside once in a while. It's not enough, he knows, but it's the best he can do. 

The war continues.

ꤠ

"She's so young," Del whispers weakly.

Addison, only eleven, takes her place at the war room table. Her head is held high. Charlotte and Mindy, on either side, are only a few years older.

"Does she have to be here?" Scott asks, and Connie nods in agreement with him.

Brooke is frowning, but she still shrugs. "She is a state. She has the right to be here as much as any of us."

"She's not much younger than Foster was during the revolution," Sam adds quietly. "Only about two years' difference."

"She's growing faster than I did, though." Foster counters.

"That just gives her more reason to be here," Will says before Foster manages to pick a fight with Sam. "Let her stay."

ꤠ

Wes and Kendall don't talk to him anymore. Will is too busy fighting battles and doing whatever he does with Brooke. He was never really close with Cordelia, and she's made her own family anyway. Del still talks to him, but she's State Leader and most of her time is spent handling Alfred's responsibilities with Cameron. 

Sera is the only person he has left. 

ꤠ

"The Confederacy has a confirmed personification," Del announces. 

The room erupts into chaos as too many states start talking at the same time, falling back into silence just as quickly when Cameron slams down the heavy atlas down on the table. 

"What does that mean for us?" Mindy asks once Del nods at her to speak. 

Mindy's only fourteen. Fourteen felt so much older when Scott was the one in the uniform, but seeing her wearing union blue makes his throat feel tight. 

Cameron frowns. "We don't know yet."

ꤠ

Scott doesn't say anything when he finds Anna crying in the kitchen over a pot, just takes the pot off the stove and sits her down at the kitchen island.

He pulls down the first aid kit and carefully bandages her burned hand.

"I was trying to make hot chocolate like Al used to make me." Anna's face crumples. "But I don't remember _how._ "

"I'll teach you how," Scott tells her.

Anna smiles. It's a poor imitation of her old ones, but it's a smile, and it's a start.

ꤠ 

"Where have you been?" Scott asks, raising his eyebrows at Kendall. 

Kendall shoots him a weary look, running his hands through his hair. "Nowhere. Have you seen the twins?"

Scott gives him a look. Even with the Carolinas and Liz gone, there were still two sets of twins. 

"Addison and Katelyn," Kendall clarifies. "Got letters for them."

Scott stands a little straighter when Kendall waves the letters around. "Is that Austin's handwriting?"

"...No."

"It is." Scott narrows his eyes. "I didn't know you talked to Tim still."

Kendall glares at him. "What, you thought I abandoned him over something he doesn't have control over? Sorry, that's more your style."

"It's more complicated than that," Scott snaps. 

"No, it isn't," Kendall says, like it's that simple. 

ꤠ

Wes used to talk to him. They used to talk a lot, actually. Sera was his niece, or whatever, and Liz was his twin. They were in the same circles. 

Scott worries about him sometimes, about the silence he shrouds himself in now that Elizabeth is gone. It's not just because he's her brother, though he has to admit that is a part of it.

"Are you-" Scott cuts himself off before he asks him if he's okay. Obviously he's not. 

Wes answers it like he had finished the question, though. "Not really."

Scott sits down beside him. Wes doesn't punch him. 

"Remember that convention my people made? They've made an application for admission to the Union. For me. As a separate state." 

"Oh," Scott breathes out. He's never really considered Wes becoming a state by himself, though maybe he should have after Foster split from Sam. A pang of shame hits him when he realizes that he'd never even considered if Wes _liked_ sharing with Elizabeth to begin with. Maybe he hated it and had wanted to be independent for a long time. "Do you want-?"

"Yes. No." Wes scrubs his hands over his face. "I don't know. It's not easy. Me and Liz have always shared. And I don't know what this means for her. I- I just. I don't want to be Virginia without her."

Scott reaches out, grabbing Wes's hand and squeezing it. 

Wes doesn't jerk his hand back, so they both just stay like that. 


	4. Elizabeth, 1862

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: abuse/physical assault (Jackson is an ass and always has to prove it)

Elizabeth and Caden have certain things in common. The first, and most important, is that they are both in love with people they'll probably never have.

She's starting to become detached from her emotions, because it's easier to feel nothing than to feel everything all the time. She can't tell if she prefers the crippling sadness or the burning anger or the unsettling nothingness. She's too tired to care most of the time. Caden is the opposite: too much emotion all the time. He burns too brightly for her sometimes. 

Caden kisses her for the first time before a battle. When they sleep together, it's all pent up emotion and the desire to forget about wanting something you can never have.

After, they talk to each other. Never about the war, about the people they cannot have, about what they left behind in the North. They talk about inconsequential things. Instruments and music and books, rocks and birds and art.

And somehow, they manage to keep each other from falling completely apart.

ꤠ

Evangeline's lip is busted and Caden's hands are shaking with rage.

Elizabeth isn't fond of Evangeline, but Evangeline is a _state_. There will never come a day that Elizabeth will think Evangeline deserves what Jackson puts her through.

She wraps her hand over Caden's fist, her hand barely covering it halfway.

None of them could afford to interfere with Jackson. He is a nation forged in war and discord, unshakable, and they are states being hurt more by this war than he is. Jackson is an enigma, a southern gentleman with equal measures of charm and cruelty. He scares all of them.

ꤠ

_Do you remember when I said that all magic comes with a cost? I'm willing to pay whatever that cost is for the others._

ꤠ

Wards are not her brand of magic. Sam had always been better at the complex spells. Elizabeth is a nature witch first. She's better with animals and bodies of water and storms and the like. 

She can't protect her family with nature magic, though. Wards are not her forte, so they'll take more concentration, more magic. 

If it means keeping Evangeline and Drew and Scarlett and all the others safe, it's a price she's gladly willing to pay. 

ꤠ

Elizabeth carves sigils into the others' doorframes, ones that say _safety_ and _protection_ and _strength of spirit_. She steals Scarlett's hair ribbons and her necklace and dunks them in a protection potion. She mumbles charms under her breath and ruffles his hair every time she passes Tim. She uses the little knot magic she knows to knot yarn into protection bracelets for Drew and Josh and Caden. She wards the orange tree Flora likes to hide behind.

Daniel allows her to draw a sigil on his back over his heart when she asks and convinces David to let her do the same.

David grabs her elbow when she tries to leave. "This isn't your type of magic."

It isn't a question, but Elizabeth answers it like it is. "No."

Vaguely, she wonders how he knows what type of magic is hers. 

David narrows his eyes at her before he seems to accept whatever he sees. "Thank you."

Evangeline is the only one who really understands what Elizabeth is doing, so she cuts to the chase with her.

"I'm going to put a protection spell on you."

Evangeline manages to look amused by the idea, even with a black eye and nose that's healing a little crooked. "Alright."

Evangeline wouldn't want this, wouldn't want Elizabeth to give her so much, but what she doesn't know won't kill her. This, especially, won't kill her. If she does it right, it'll keep her alive. She says the spells in Gaelic instead of English or Latin. 

She puts a ward over the first bruise Caden gets defending her.

ꤠ

_This is the first time I've ever missed Sera's birthday._

ꤠ

The state bond between them is in tatters, but that doesn't mean she doesn't still feel Wes sometimes, and vice versa. They're twins. 

She knows he feels it when she starts using magic. 

Wes sends her letters written in frantic, messy handwriting, ones that start as _what are you doing? what have you done?_ before they become _Liz, you need to **stop** , it's too much._

ꤠ

"I saw your wards," Evangeline tells her one day. "I didn't know to look until you put that one on Caden's face."

Elizabeth bites her cheek.

"They're beautiful, you know that? They're- different from Sam's." Evangeline makes an indescribable hand gesture, but Elizabeth gets what she means.

The wards that Sam leaves on everything she cares about are geometric where Elizabeth's are almost organic in composition, sharp and pointed where Elizabeth's are curved and soft. 

"Thanks," Elizabeth tells her, unsure of what else to say. 

ꤠ

There are some moments when Elizabeth manages to forget, if only for a second, that they're at war, that they live with a psychopathic nation who sees them as nothing more than tools. 

Daniel smiles at her over maps and for a moment it's like nothing's changed at all, like they're still fourteen and playing at being revolutionaries. Tim plays the piano and it's like she could go downstairs and see Alfred idly pressing keys. She braids Caden's hair and it reminds her that she's more than a solider, reminds her of doing the same for Sera. 

She's all too aware that everything is different. Caden calls her Liza and E and chérie, not Liz and Lizzy. Jackson calls her Virginia, not Gin or Elizabeth the way Alfred does. There's no Kendall or Wes to call her Liz, no Scott or Sera to call her Lizzy. 

She almost cries when David calls her Liz. Grief takes root in her chest every time she watches Tim sneak out so he can visit Kendall. 

(They all know, because if he was just going to join the army for battles he'd just Step over to his land and find a unit and a battle, or he'd get one of them to take him to wherever his army is. If Tim's avoiding Stepping, it's because Jackson would know where he went if he did.)

Tim and Kendall would make it through this war still together, but Scott and her weren't ever going to be the same, no matter the outcome.

Because Scott had said goodbye to her, he had walked away from her, even though he had promised that he would never do that.

Maybe whatever they had could have survived if they hadn't let inaction poison it, if one of them had the guts to do something rather than letting it go stagnant. 

ꤠ

Caden finally snaps the day he sees the nasty bruise on Evangeline's wrist. 

He punches Jackson and Jackson hits him back until they're on the ground with his hands around Caden's neck.

When Elizabeth can't pull Jackson off of Caden, she presses her fingertips against his nape instead and uses her talent.

The last time she'd used it on him, it'd been barely anything. This time, she throws everything into it.

Caden gasps for breath, scrambling to get to his feet, and Elizabeth could _cry_ right now.

From relief, but also for the backlash of _wrong_ she feels when she drops her hand.

She wavers on her feet. Caden steadies her with a hand on her arm, trying to put himself in front of her when Jackson stands.

Elizabeth stumbles backward when Jackson shoves her. "Stop trying to mind control me." He hisses, but Elizabeth doesn't have the energy to be afraid right now. 

Later, she'll be afraid, but for now, she puts her hand on Caden's back and breathes.

ꤠ

Elizabeth let herself lean against the wall, and then sink to the ground.

She didn't even want to look at her ruined right thigh, the pain was enough of an indication of what the shrapnel had done to it.

Elizabeth unslung her rifle from her shoulder, pulling it into her lap. She's fading too fast, her body attempting to heal itself and knocking her out in the process.

She can feel her siblings running around in the chaos of the battle, and prays that whichever one finds her is on her side.

Her eyes slip closed for what feels like seconds, but must be longer, since the next thing she's aware of is Tim's voice.

"Goddamn, Ginny." After a few tries, she manages to get her eyes open enough to see Tim, his hair falling into his face, and Caden behind him.

She reaches out and tugs on Tim's bangs. "I'll cut it when we get back," she drawls out, pain rather than an accent dragging the syllables down.

Caden and Tim exchange a Look.

Caden's eyes flicker towards the battle as cannon fire echoes around them.

"Couldn't have picked a better place to pass out," Tim mutters sarcastically, pulling one of her arms and wrapping it around his shoulder.

He pulls her to her feet, and it hurts _so fucking much._

Why hasn't it healed?

"Shrapnel," Tim answers. _Right_ , she knew that.

"Come on, chérie, let's go home," Caden says as he slings her gun and knapsack over one shoulder, her arm over the over.

ꤠ

She's not as strong anymore, and that's her own fault. It's a mix of overexerting herself on the daily and being in this war in the first place with a dash of food shortages hitting her soldiers hard.

Sometimes Elizabeth crashes, and she crashes _hard_.

The problem is that Jackson is waiting for a moment when she drops her guard, and she can't let that happen.

David lets her sleep in his room sometimes, and sometimes she'll fall asleep when her and Daniel are working in his room. David gets it, she thinks, he's too observant not to. Daniel doesn't.

It's okay. Caden doesn't really get it either. They're boys.

"You need sleep to heal," Caden murmurs, brushing his fingers over the bandaged shrapnel wound, so so gently. She's seen him break Jackson's jaw but he hasn't so much as put a bruise on her without explicit permission.

"Can't." Tired as she is, she can't sleep now.

Caden squeezes her hand. "You can't stay awake because you're scared of nightmares."

Elizabeth stays awake because of the way Jackson looks at her, because of the way he smirks as he drawls her name. The way he'd said _what makes you think that I couldn't just take whatever I wanted?_ haunts every her every waking and sleeping moment.

She closes her eyes. Just for a second. "It's not nightmares."

Caden doesn't understand, and why would he? He's a boy, he wasn't socialized to have the same awareness that Elizabeth or Evangeline or Scarlett had.

But he nods his head and gets in bed beside her, sitting with his back to the headboard. "I'll watch out for you," he says, so soft and sincere and so painfully _good_.

He runs his fingers through her hair after she settles down, and Elizabeth thinks, with an aching heart, that she could love him.

ꤠ

"So," Elizabeth sets her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her folded hands. "About my brother."

David's hand jerks, knocking over the ink. 

He curses loudly as he cleans it up, and Elizabeth laughs. 

David sighs, raking his hands through his hair. Elizabeth decides not to tell him that he just smeared black ink in his hair just yet. 

"It's just. I- I don't know. Shut up. Stop laughing at me," David puts his head down on the table. "I tried everything, and I'm still pretty sure he has no idea that I'm even queer."

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't know."

David groans. "Why is he so fucking _stupid?_ "

He jerks his head up, giving her an alarmed look. "I mean that in the best possible way, of course. Not insulting your brother-"

"No, he is really stupid. You have ink in your hair, by the way."

David smacks his head down on the table in defeat. 

ꤠ

"What happens if we win?" Caden asks softly.

The sheets are tangled around them, quilt kicked to the floor. Elizabeth feels safe enough to fall asleep, like this, but Caden's question kills the warm, drowsy feeling she had.

Elizabeth doesn't like to think about it, really. It's easy to say that this is a war for state's rights, and it is. She'll defend that till that the day she dies. The problem is that the specific state's right in question here is slavery.

Decades ago, she believed that slavery would have died out by now. She didn't support it, but there was nothing she could do about it, just like there was nothing Cameron could do to make people believe that homosexuality wasn't a mental illness. None of them could do much to change people's minds- that just wasn't their place in history.

So really, what happens if they win? Is this just another war for independence? The government seems to think so.

Elizabeth lays her head on Caden's chest, letting the steadiness of his heartbeat ground her. "I don't know." 


	5. Scott, 1863

They're all there to see the Emancipation Proclamation signed. 

Will is practically mutinous over it, which isn't surprising considering how long he's been talking about abolition. "Lot of good it does, freeing the slaves in another country-" 

"States in rebellion," Del corrects offhandedly. 

"Whatever- lot of good it does freeing the slaves in the part of the country he's got no real jurisdiction over when there's still slaves in _this_ part of the country."

"Sometimes you have to pick your battles, Will," Brooke sighs. "And right now isn't the time to pick them."

"He should have signed it sooner. It should free all of them. There are four million slaves in this country and this will free what, three million?"

"Will," Brooke sighs out. 

"They're only free as far as the army can advance-"

"William, you're preaching to the choir." Brooke interrupts. Will just sighs, slumping back into his chair. 

Scott watches as Brooke catches his hand, running her thumb over his knuckles in a soothing gesture. 

He looks away. 

ꤠ

None of them are quite sure what to do when the new territory is formed. 

"Alfred certainly can't go get them," Cordelia says at their meeting that night, after all the territories have been put to bed. Scott thinks they should have told Addison to go to bed since he's seen her yawn three separate times, but the only people she really listens to are Austin and Theo, and neither of them is here right now. "So one of us will have to do it."

Riley twists his ring anxiously. "What if we didn't?"

Scott recoils, seeing Brooke and Sam do the same. 

Caleb makes a soft sound. "What, like- leave them?"

"We can't do that," Del says, horrified. "We have no idea how old they are-"

"Marisol was nine. The twins, not you Addison, are eleven. _You_ were younger and you were on your own decades before Alfred could get you, and this war can't last much longer one way or another-"

"We can't consider _abandoning_ a child," Sam hisses, and Scott agrees. He's heard about what she went through, heard rumors about Brooke, knows the Carolinas and Georgia had probably starved more than once, not that they could tell. 

"I'll do it," Charlotte interrupts quietly. "I'll be the fastest. They'll be my neighbor, I can just Walk over."

Riley shuts his mouth. 

ꤠ

Scott can feel Elizabeth at Chancellorsville, but he doesn't go looking for her. 

ꤠ

"What are you doing?" 

Scott looks at Riley. "I'm making tea."

Riley's eyebrows furrow. "I thought you didn't drink tea?"

Scott pauses. 

He doesn't drink tea. He'd just been going through the motions because he used to make Elizabeth tea in the mornings sometimes.

"Maybe I just wanted something different," Scott chokes out. 

He takes three sips before he pours it out. 

ꤠ

Just like there are stars in every state house, there are little memories painted on the walls on each one too. 

Here on the outskirts of Philadelphia, in a house that dates back to the revolution, there are handprints on the wall. 

They'd done it originally after the Treaty of Paris was signed, but there are Cordelia's tiny handprints at knee-height, there's Riley's name fingerpainted on the wall, complete with a backward E. There's where Sera painted over Abigail and the paint didn't quite match. 

There's his handprint next to Elizabeth's in the same shade of red. 

Scott spends a long time looking at that, at the state stars hanging on the wall that no one has the heart to take down because that implies permanence, that they're not coming back. 

ꤠ

No one congratulates Wes on his statehood because he looks like he might punch anyone who gets too close. The only ones who dare to get near him are Katelyn, Addison, and Kendall, and even they only hover near him warily.

The statehood is somber and uncomfortable, not helped by the fact that Wes looks like he's going to a funeral. Usually, they wear white at statehood ceremonies, but the only white Wes is wearing is the shirt beneath his jacket. 

The whole thing is over quickly. Scott hangs back, wanting to talk to Wes and waiting for the various senators and governors to leave. 

Senator Willey claps Wes on the back and says something that makes Wes's face goes blank. 

A second later, Wes is pushing through the crowd. He's gone before anyone can stop him. 

ꤠ

"How did you get home?" Scott asks when he finds Wes three hours later in the first place he should have checked. Wes looks miserable sitting on the edge of Elizabeth's bed, star tossed carelessly on the mattress behind him. He'd taken off his jacket and threw it across the room along with his tie, undone the first couple of buttons on his shirt. 

"Jumped," Wes gestures wildly, nearly spilling the bottle of rum. 

"How-" 

Wes digs through his pocket, pulling out a vial of dirt. 

"Wes, what are you doing? What did Willey say to you that made you leave?"

"Celebrating, obviously." Wes raises the bottle of rum. "To statehood." He snorts and then chugs a fourth of the bottle.

Scott winces. 

"As for Willey, he asked how I felt about changing my name, you know, since it's not like it's my name, too, not like it was my _idea_ -"

"What, West Virginia?"

"No, you idiot, _Dare_. Our surname. It was a joke, you know, Dare, like Virginia?" All the energy goes out of Wes at that last word, his shoulders and face both dropping. "Though I guess I'm not really Virginia, anymore, am I?"

"You're still her brother," Scott tells him, and Wes closes his eyes.

ꤠ

The house is silent in the aftermath of Gettysburg. 

Brooke had brought Will with a completely blank face, waiting until Del was with him before disappearing somewhere. Presumably, Nicky had been making sure she ate, but Scott hadn't seen her since, not that he's had time to look.

Mindy had been at the battle, too, but her unit was decimated and Cordelia and Michael hadn't found her with the wounded or the dead. 

They were both half-frantic over her, fearing that she'd either been buried or captured. 

Scott doesn't try to console them, knowing that there's nothing he can say that will make them feel better. 

"What if the Confederacy does have her?" Scott asks Del when he finds her at the war room table, pieces of her rifle set out as she cleans it. 

Del begins reassembling her rifle. "I'm giving it a week, and then I'm going to get her."

Her tone promises pain, death, and destruction. 

"I'll go with you," Scott tells her, and Del smiles at him. 

ꤠ

It doesn't come down to that, though because a couple of days later Mindy shows up at the crack of dawn. 

Bandaged, but alive, carrying a letter that she hands to Kendall. 

Kendall looks at it, and then at her with a baffled look. "This is from Tim?"

Mindy shrugs. "Austin found me passed out at Gettysburg and apparently healed me? I yelled at him. Tim showed up and I think he yelled at him, too."

Cordelia and Michael exchange a look while the older states stare at Mindy incredulously. 

She's not old enough to remember and understand that Austin _hates_ healing people. The only person Austin had ever willingly healed was Addison. 

"You... _yelled_ at him?" Cordelia repeats. 

"He made me a deserter," Mindy answers immediately. 

Michael folds his hands together and presses them against his mouth. 

ꤠ

Kendall comes back with Evangeline's familiar one day and says Tim asked him to take it. 

The bad feeling that Scott gets sometimes comes back full force. 


	6. Elizabeth, 1863

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: implied animal abuse (by Jackson)  
> tw: Jackson does temporarily kill Liz here, so if you're uncomfortable reading that, stop at "She carries that hope with her, even when Jackson finally realizes who would have told his favorite scapegoat to leave."

"Lincoln's made abolition a war goal," Daniel says tiredly, practically falling on the couch beside her. 

Elizabeth sighs. 

"What do you see in outcomes?"

Daniel frowns. "It's complicated. Every battle changes things and I can't always see _why_ something goes a specific way. If you want probability for an outcome, you'll have to talk to David, though he can usually only tell you what not to do."

Elizabeth nods, thinking. While they had forms of premonition, they had limitations. Neither of them could really predict the future more accurately than a coin toss, but Jackson didn't seem to understand that. Of course, he didn't really understand any of their abilities. He thought Scarlett's gift was another form of persuasion.

"There's not a lot of good possibilities," Daniel warns her quietly.

"Don't need precognition to see that." 

ꤠ

They haven't tried to truly celebrate a birthday since Evangeline's that first year, when Jackson had said they should be celebrating secession dates rather than admission dates, but late that night they all sit in Scarlett's room and watch her blow out the single candle on a cake. 

No one talks about how seventy-five is a milestone that would have been a big deal before. 

ꤠ

Jackson tosses a slur at Tim over the breakfast table and Tim merely raises an eyebrow as the rest of them freeze. 

Elizabeth watches Flora get up from the table out the corner of her eye, going seemingly unnoticed by everyone else. Drew follows her wordlessly, though Evangeline waves them off when they try to bring her. 

"Is that all you've got?" Tim asks, fire burning in his eyes, and Elizabeth resigns herself to drawing more sigils on his door. "I've heard better from farm boys and congressmen, come on."

Scarlett looks like she might be sick. "Tim-"

Elizabeth winces at the high-pitched ringing. The glass on the table shakes, almost imperceptible unless you were looking for it. 

Tim had better control of his state abilities that most, but he was still young. If he lost control now, when he was angry and hurt, it would be disastrous. 

"No. He wants to say that to me, he can damn well do a better job of it." 

Jackson lunges across the table. 

The twins move, but Tim moves faster. 

His fist connects with Jackson's jaw with an audible pop just before the twins shove him back. Austin and Caden grab him, holding him back from lunging again. 

Half the glasses on the table shatter, and then the ringing in her ears stops. 

Tim isn't particularly threatening. He's not as tall as the other boys, and he'd always preferred music over most sports and it showed, but right now he looks _dangerous_. 

He _is_ dangerous, his state talent just as powerful as Evangeline's is. 

"Don't fucking call me that," Tim says, and then he's shoving his way out of the room. 

ꤠ

"There's a new territory," Daniel tells them after Jackson has left. 

Elizabeth's throat tightens. "What's their name?"

"Idaho. They're up between Dakota and Charlie and Aidan, from what I could tell on the map."

The territories are kind of sore spots for them. Tim got some information from Kendall, and Addy and Kate wrote to Austin, but it wasn't the same. It hurt, that they wouldn't know them.

On the other hand, they wanted to know as much as they could. There wasn't much for them to be excited about. 

ꤠ

_Scott, do you ever what lives we would have lived if we were human? I think I would have been a mother. I miss when Sera was a baby so much._

_I miss you. I wish you would write back._

ꤠ

They lose at Gettysburg, and that's when it goes from bad to worse. 

Jackson doesn't wait for them to make him angry as an excuse for some kind of punishment anymore. 

The house becomes a battlefield. Drew makes himself scarce, vanishing in Flora's room where Jackson hasn't dared to go yet. Scarlett covers as much skin as possible. Even Elizabeth isn't quite sure where Josh disappears to. 

It doesn't work. 

When Evangeline isn't there to take it out on, Jackson takes it out on her familiar instead. 

A week later, Tim is passing Genevieve over to Kendall. 

ꤠ

"What do you know about Mindy?" Austin asks her idly when they're cleaning up the living room. 

Jackson was the one who messed it up, but he'd raise hell if it was cleaned up by morning so they'd all just agreed that they'd take turns fixing the house up. 

Elizabeth looked at him. "Minnesota?"

Austin nods. 

"She's young. She's the same age as Emily, I believe. She'd probably be around twelveish-"

"I'd say she's about fourteen," Austin says offhandedly.

Elizabeth turns to face him, expression wary. "Austin, how would you know that?"

Austin doesn't meet her eyes. "She was at Gettysburg."

Elizabeth frowns. "With the unit that stole my flag?"

Austin smiles. It's been such a long time since she's seen him smile that any annoyance about the flag disappears. 

Elizabeth laughs, rolling her eyes. "Good for her. She can keep it, then." 

ꤠ

"Evangeline, you need to leave. You're not safe. You never were, but it's only going to get worse." 

Evangeline looks at her, the red staining the white of her eye making her look more defeated than she ever has. 

"I'll think about it," Evangeline says softly, and Elizabeth nods. 

ꤠ

_Jackson will kill me for this, I know it, but I'm the only one who can get her to see reason. I can not let Evangeline die here to save my own skin. She'll never be the same if she loses her first life to him._

ꤠ

Elizabeth knows she's convinced Evangeline when Evangeline answers with a tired _I know_ instead of an _I'll think about it_. 

ꤠ

She wakes up with the rapier she had given Evangeline laying at the foot of her bed and knows Evangeline is gone, even before David makes a scene at breakfast. 

It's stagnant, lately, all of them too afraid to be angry and rebellious, but David grins like it's the revolution and Scarlett steps in front of him like a shield and Elizabeth breathes for the first time in months because they're still fighting. 

It gives her hope, watching all of them, that Jackson hasn't quite managed to dampen their fire yet. 

She carries that hope with her, even when Jackson finally realizes who would have told his favorite scapegoat to leave. 

ꤠ

Jackson pins Elizabeth to the wall with his hands around her throat, and she knows she's going to die here.

She isn't afraid. Jackson can kill her, but he can't make her stay that way. This isn't anything he can take from her that she hasn't willingly given for her people a dozen times over. 

"Didn't know you were into this kind of thing," She quips, thinking of Wes and how he never did know when to shut up. She wonders if he would be proud of her, backtalking in the face of death. 

Probably not.

Jackson snarls. "You're the one who convinced her to leave."

"I'm the fucking _mother of states_. Of course I did." Elizabeth grins viciously, managing enough air to get the words out with the appropriate amount of sass. 

ꤠ

Elizabeth wakes up alone, throat burning as the healing factor repairs busted arteries and bruises.

When she finally struggles to her feet to look at herself in the mirror, she's unsurprised by the bruising that remains around her throat, the little spots around her eyes three times darker than her freckles.

Injuries inflicted by other personifications heal the slowest.

There's nothing she can do about the spots, but she can cover the bruises on her throat.

Elizabeth drags her makeup box towards her.

She doesn't say anything when Austin grabs her elbow and hisses that he'd recognize petechia anywhere.

She doesn't admit where it came from, either. 

She doesn't have to. The older states know what death feels like, the way it hangs around for days even after they come back, and the younger ones can't quite put a finger on why they feel uneasy. 


	7. Scott, 1864

Updating the battle maps is Scott's least favorite thing to do. Their war meetings are grim enough without opening up the letters Alfred receives and painstakingly recording their loses and wins on the map. 

Cameron sighs, refolding the letter back into its envelope and chucking the letter into a box. "General Seymour lost at Olustee, Florida, mark that, please, Kendall."

"What the hell was he doing in Olustee?" Monty asks, leaning over to retrieve the letter so he can read it. "I thought he was meant to stay in Jacksonville."

"He thought he could capture Tallahassee."

"Against orders, no less," Del spits out. "Michael, mark these: a loss at Dandridge in Jefferson County and an inconclusive in Sevier County, both in Tennessee, and then a victory in Athens, Alabama."

"What are the dates on those Tennessee battles?" Kendall asks, trying to sound unaffected and failing. 

Del's expression softens with sympathy. "They're both minor battles, from what I can tell. Both in January. Dandridge on the 17th and the one in Sevier on the 27th."

Kendall nods.

ꤠ

"Charlotte's gone," Sera hisses, shaking him awake.

Scott bolts upright. "What, to the _confederacy?!_ "

Sera gives him a look like he's just said the stupidest thing she's ever heard. It's not an unfamiliar look. "No. To the nursing corps. Said she's not coming back till the war is over, one way or another."

Scott scrubs his hands over his face. "Does Alfred know?"

 _Is Alfred lucid enough to know, to even register that his fifteen year old daughter is gone?_ is a better question, but not one Scott's willing to ask.

"Cameron's telling him now. "

When a grieving, angry shout rings through the house a few minutes later, Scott decides the answer to all three questions is _yes_.

ꤠ

"Heads up, someone's talent has decided to make an appearance," Del announces after she raps her knuckles against the frame of Sera's door. 

Scott sits up, running through the list of states who haven't grown into their talents yet. Not Addison, because she's been calling everyone on their white lies since she was waist-high. Not Mindy, because she had frozen her door that time and got stuck until Michael broke it. Not Jake, he was probably still too young for it. 

"Is it one of the twins?"

There was only one set of talentless twins left, and considering the chaos they wreaked already, Scott was a little afraid of the day they'd get them. Especially since their talents would likely be complementary. 

"No, it's-" 

"Aidan," Sera interrupts, glancing up from the ledgers for a second and shrugging when Scott stares at her. "He's been having headaches."

They joke about Sera knowing everything, but it seems like a reality sometimes. 

"So, what is it?" Scott frowns. "Not another precognition or precognition adjacent talent, I hope."

"Empathy. Full-fledged, seems like."

Scott sighs. "Eliza-" Her name chokes him, and he has to stop and pretend not to see the pitying look Del gives him before continuing. "Elizabeth had a little empathy, and that was bad enough on its own. Maybe see if Connie can do anything for the headache?"

Del nods and leaves. 

"Terrible time to develop empathy," Sera muses, and Scott couldn't agree more. 

ꤠ

"Troops have reached Louisiana, so who knows, maybe this war will be over sooner rather than later," Cameron says at another of the endless war meetings, purple shadows under his eyes like bruises. 

ꤠ

"He's killing states," Del tells them, the statement making the room go silent.

Scott glances at Caleb, his first life gone to a psychopath pretending to be a nation. At Adam, who bled out on a battlefield and is going to bayonet scars on his thighs for the rest of his immortal life. The Confederacy had slammed the butt of his rifle into Cal's head so hard her skull had fractured, and Scott's lost count of the times he's seen her curled into a ball from the pain of migraines since them. Cass shot point-blank in the throat and Riley's hands covered in her blood where he'd tried to keep her alive. 

"It's only going to get worse," Cordelia says, so quiet it hurts. "I'm sorry."

Michael glares at everyone, silently daring a single one of them to say its Cordelia's fault. 

"It's not your fault," Cameron sighs. "He's doing it because he recognizes that the war could go our way. Alfred's been more lucid, lately. If he kills states, that keeps Alfred crippled."

"So what are we supposed to do?" Foster asks, "Just let him do it? We can't shoot- his states."

Sam flinches, just a little, at the almost childlike disbelief and concern dripping from Foster's last statement, but no one points it out. 

"He can't hurt anyone if I get him first," Del replies, voice steady and soft with a undercurrent of something terrible. 

They all knew what Del was cable of. 

"Someone will have to take my paperwork, though, if I'm going to be at every battle I can get to from now on," She continues, ignoring the looks directed at her. 

"I'll do it," Scott volunteers, smiling back when Del sends him a grateful smile and a nod. 

ꤠ

The reports that come from Fort Pillow shock all of them into silence, Kendall's absence glaringly obvious. 

Cordelia hides away in her room for a week, only coming out after Kendall comes back and speaks to her. 

ꤠ

No matter which side of the argument over the newest territory they were on, they're all downstairs waiting when Montana arrives. 

She's clutching Aidan's hand tightly, still wearing the little white nightgown personifications are born in, a sky blue ribbon around the neck. Her blonde hair is dirty and tangled so badly that Scott can't judge how long it is. She bounces on her bare feet anxiously as she watches them, studying them as much as they're studying her. 

"She's older than I thought she would be," Del says softly, and Scott can't read her expression to see how she feels about it. Will must be able to, though, since he slings an arm around her shoulders once he looks at her. 

Riley is frowning, eyebrows knitted together. "What is she? Six?"

"Closer to seven, I'd say," Cass answers Riley quietly. 

Cordelia moves first, bending a little bit to address the newest addition to their family. Scott's too far away to hear her, but he catches bits and pieces like _bath_ and _food_. 

Montana lets go of Aidan's hand to grab Cordelia's, and the room is a mixture of relieved sighs and strained smiles. 

ꤠ

Del stumbles home from a battle missing two fingers, and everything dissolves into chaos. 

Del is crying, Will looks like he's one step away from either murder or a breakdown, Connie is barking out orders as she cleans the wounds. 

Scott is about to intervene when Brooke appears, all her attention on Will. 

She cups his face, trying to get him to look at her. "Will, _lieve_ , look at me."

 _Oh_ , Scott thinks. _Well, guess the rumors about those two are true._

Brooke moves, blocking his view of Del. "William. Babe, look at me."

He does, and Brooke curses in Dutch under her breath. "Connie, is Del okay?"

Connie doesn't even look up from her stitches. "She'll live. It might take a while for the fingers to grow back. It's messy, but that's never stopped the healing process before."

"Did you hear that? Will, Del's going to be okay." One of her hands slips down to grab his hand, and she begins tugging him upstairs.

When Scott tries to say something, Brooke shoots a vicious glare at him. 

ꤠ

Scott doesn't know what Brooke did to Jackson, and he doesn't think he wants to know either.

ꤠ

He had grown up with Scarlett, with the twins, and now here he is, listening to the generals smile as they discuss making Georgia howl and not saying a single word. 

ꤠ

It's only four days from Christmas when Del stands at the head of the war table with shaky hands. "Sherman has captured Savannah."


	8. Elizabeth, 1864

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: intentionally burning someone with cigarettes. You can skip this by stopping at the line "Drew is gone, and Elizabeth just hopes the fall out won't be so terrible." and going to the line "Elizabeth knocks against Tim's doorframe, waiting for his quiet response before going in."

_I need to find a way to keep the others safe. I got Evangeline out, but the others are still in danger. I can't let them become collateral damage._

ꤠ

It's hard to find Drew, because he's good at getting to places no one else would be able to, but it isn't impossible. 

"Drew?" She calls, stepping carefully around the boxes in the attic.

"Yes?"

Elizabeth tilts her head up towards the sound of his voice. "The rafters? Really?"

Drew laughs, hooking his knees over the beam before he does some complicated flip to get down. "So, what do you want?"

"I think you need to get out of here. You and I both know it's only going to get worse."

Drew looks away. "I'll be gone by spring, Ginny," he admits carefully, like he's bracing for her disappointment. 

Elizabeth goes to hug him, just briefly, because she's not sure if he likes it or not. 

When she tries to pull away, though, Drew holds on to her.

ꤠ

She won't be able to convince the others to leave. If she could, Tim would already be at the border with Kendall and Flora would be safe with Evangeline. 

That means she has to stay, too, to protect them. To take the hits they can't take. 

ꤠ

"The union has reached Alexandria," Daniel says, the worry lines on his forehead making him look older. 

Elizabeth frowns before she realizes he's not talking about her Alexandria. 

She lays a hand on Daniel shoulder. "Evangeline's a smart girl, she'll be fine."

She's not sure if she's trying to convince him or herself.

ꤠ

Drew is gone, and Elizabeth just hopes the fall out won't be so terrible. 

ꤠ

Elizabeth yelps when something burns the back of her neck as she's washing dishes, flinching away and dropping the plate she was washing. 

It shatters on the floor. 

Jackson grabs her arm, yanking her back against his chest, wrapping his arm around her to keep her there. He pins her arm against the counter top. "That one was for costing me Louisiana."

"You think I wouldn't realize that this was _you_?" Jackson seethes, pressing a cigarette between her thumb and her forefinger. "This one is for Mississippi," he croons, keeping it there until all she can smell is her skin burning. 

He pulls it away, acting like he's going to let her go. 

And then he grabs her throat, shoves her into the counter, and forces her head back. 

He places the burning cigarette to her collarbone. "And this one is just because, my dear Virginia."

And when he's done, he leaves her on the floor in the broken glass. 

ꤠ

_He burned me, Scott._ _And I think he enjoyed it. I think he liked hurting me. No. I don't just think it, I'm sure he did._ _  
_

ꤠ

Elizabeth knocks against Tim's doorframe, waiting for his quiet response before going in. 

He's sitting on the window seat, still in his uniform, staring out at the yard. 

"Are you okay?" 

"No," Tim answers honestly. "Jackson- he. It wasn't just fighting for him, Gin."

Elizabeth sits beside him, not surprised when Tim moves to rest his head on her shoulder. She runs her fingers through his hair. "I know, Tim, I know."

Tim shifts, his head lying directly over the still raw burn on her collarbone. 

She doesn't flinch.

ꤠ

Spotsylvania is too much like Gettysburg, like that seemingly endless carnage for Elizabeth to sleep well after it. 

Thousands of men, dead, and for what?

She goes on to fight again. 

ꤠ

"My loyalty is to you, Virginia," Lee tells her, watching Jackson speak to the other soldiers, watching as some of them perk up, reinvigorated the way only your nation can do.

"I know, General," Elizabeth says, keeping one eye on Jackson and one hand on her sword. 

Lee glances at her, taking stock of her pallor, the dark bruises of sleeplessness under her eyes. "I feel that I would be failing you if I did not warn you. Be careful with that one, my dear, he loves the bloodshed too much."

ꤠ

"I think Jackson has been hurting the Northern states at battles," Austin tells her. 

Elizabeth believes it, but... "What makes you think that?"

"He said that Brooke was the one who cut off his fingers."

Elizabeth gestures for him to continue, but Austin hesitates. 

"I- Me and Brooke were involved at one point. I know her. She isn't cruel like that, but she can be spiteful. If Jackson did something to someone she cared about, she could have done this to get back at him."

"It's Brooke, though." Elizabeth points out. "Look, I've known her for a long time. She can be ruthless."

Austin looks at her sharply enough that she takes a step back. "Yeah, and so can you. I'm telling you, Brooke wouldn't have purposely sought him out and cut off _four_ fingers unless she was _provoked_."

Elizabeth sighs, running her hand over her face. "Alright, so what do we do?"

Austin's shoulders slump, just a little bit. "I don't think there's anything we can do."

ꤠ

"I am so tired, Caden."

Caden combs his fingers through her short hair. "I know, cher, I know."

Two rooms over, Scarlett is crying as Sherman torches cities. It echoes through the house, and no one gets any sleep that night. 


	9. Scott, 1865

"I think this is the last year," Sera muses aloud, twirling her pen around her fingers. 

Scott exhales heavily. "Yeah, I think you're right."

ꤠ

"Do you ever wonder what happens when it's over?" Kendall asks him one early morning in the kitchen, blurting out the question. 

Scott focuses on pouring his coffee. "What do you mean?"

"Scott, you can't tell me you don't hear the stuff Congress has been saying. About punishments for the south. God, someone said they wanted to charge every confederate soldier with treason."

Scott knows, he's heard the whispers. Someone had asked for the southern stars back. 

He's afraid for them. 

"I don't know," Scott answers, unable to keep the fear from his voice. "I don't know, Kendall."

ꤠ

Grant's forces capture Richmond, and all Scott can think about is how Grant holds the beating heart of Virginia in his hands. 

Columbia had been in flames, back in February. 

Scott knows what a burnt capital does to a state.

ꤠ

"Sir, I have a letter for you," Grant's assistant says. 

"From who?" Grant asks, looking at papers with Cordelia. Scott is cleaning his rifle idly, but he stops when the assistant answers. 

"It's from General Lee, sir."

ꤠ

Elizabeth stands beside her general, and for a moment all he can see is the gray dress uniform.

Then he notices the sharpness of her, how her hair hangs limply, the dark circles around her dull eyes. _Oh, Liz_.

Elizabeth and Lee are both in their dress uniforms, medals and shined boots and starched collars, but all that primness and polish can't hid the hollowness in Liz's eyes. 

_She looks so tired_ , Scott thinks, watching the brief flicker of shame in her eyes when she sees Grant's mud-splattered uniform, the way she touches Lee's arm to reassure him. 

His heart aches.

Scott sees the exact moment she looks away from Grant and sees him.

She takes a step forward, and Scott thinks _maybe maybe maybe._ "Bit far from home, aren't you?"

Scott can't help but smile, rushing forward and pulling her into a hug before he even makes the conscious decision to do so. He crushes her to his chest, presses his face to her hair and she buries her face in his neck.

He doesn't know or care what Lee and Grant are discussing. The only thing that matters to him at that moment is Liz, alive and in one piece in his arms, hugging him back. 

Lee clears his throat, and Liz pulls away from Scott enough to look at him. "I believe it's time for us to discuss the terms of surrender."

ꤠ

After the surrender, Elizabeth shakes Lee's hand, then Grants, and then she gives Scott her rifle. 

He just stares at her in confusion. "Lizzy, what-"

"I'm surrendering. You already knew that."

Scott watches as she sets her shoulders, waiting for her to take it back. The Liz he knows would never do anything like this. "...You're coming back with us, right? When Grant and I leave, you'll come too?"

Liz closes her eyes for a moment. "I can't."

Scott looks away.

"I have things to take care of," she explains, sounding genuinely remorseful. "I'll be home within a fortnight."

She leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Tell Sera to start drafting a new statehood acceptance paper."

Scott exhales shakily, finally slipping her rifle strap over his shoulder. "You're coming home?" He states it like a question.

Elizabeth offers him a tremulous smile. "I'm coming home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Appomattox was in April, but I felt that was the best place to end. Liz's chapter will also end in April, rather than continuing the timeline to the end of the war.


	10. Elizabeth, 1865

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: attempted sexual assault. nothing graphic, but you can avoid it by stopping after "When she gets back to Montgomery, Elizabeth ignores Jackson calling for her in order to make her way up to her room." and starting again at "David's there when she wakes up, the medical kit beside him."

Columbia burns and Elizabeth knows it's almost over. 

ꤠ

"It's the only option left, Virginia," Lee announces gravely.

Elizabeth nods sharply once.

She is not the same girl she started this war as, nor the same state. She's tired. 

"It's time to go see General Grant."

ꤠ

All the polish of her dress uniform can't erase the dark shadows under her eyes, the sharpness of her face, the way her short hair hangs limp.

Elizabeth's hands shake as she fastens the flag pin Alfred had given her decades ago to her lapel.

"Ready?" Lee asks. He looks just as tired as she does.

Elizabeth nods, and follows her general one last time.

ꤠ

"I haven't seen Grant in two decades," Lee tells her, like he can't stand the silence as they wait.

"I only met him once," Elizabeth responds after thinking a moment. "He's one of Cordelia's. Seemed decent enough."

Shame curls in her stomach when Grant shows up in his mud-spattered uniform, only tarnished shoulder straps to show his rank. Between the three of them, only Grant looks like a real soldier now.

Elizabeth touches Lee's wrist to reassure him, and his shoulders lose some of the tension he's been holding for the past four years.

She looks back to Grant, only to notice the boy dressed in navy behind him.

Her throat tightens as she takes a step forward. "Bit far from home, aren't you?"

Scott beams at her, hope shining in his eyes. Elizabeth's expecting it, but the bone-crushing hug Scott wraps her in still knocks her off-guard.

She doesn't know how long she and Scott spend like that, just holding each other, while Lee and Grant reminisce about the Mexican-American and the time they meet before.

Lee clears his throat, and Elizabeth pulls away from Scott enough to look at him. "I believe it's time for us to discuss the terms of surrender."

ꤠ

Scott sits beside her as Lee and Grant discuss the terms of surrender.

His thigh is pressed against hers, warm and reassuring. The girl Elizabeth was before the war would have been swooning.

The terms are more generous than she could have hoped for. Her soldiers, her boys, will not be imprisoned or charged with treason and the officers can keep their sidearms, horses, and personal baggage. Grant's even allowing her men to take home their horses and mules. "For spring planting," He explains when Lee and Elizabeth both just stare at him.

"I'll provide you with a supply of food rations for your men," Grant adds as a side note after everything else has been laid out. He shoots a meaningful look at Elizabeth and she flushes.

Grant certainly knows that personifications reflect the state of their people, and all that's left of Elizabeth is skin and bone, and a dress uniform can't hide that. Her men have been starving for a while.

Elizabeth shoves her wounded pride down. "Thank you."

She doesn't mumble. She hasn't sunk that far yet.

ꤠ

She gives Scott her rifle, and he just stares at her in confusion. "Lizzy, what-"

"I'm surrendering. You already knew that."

Scott still seems uncertain, holding her rifle like he's waiting for her to take it back. "...You're coming back with us, right? When Grant and I leave, you'll come too?"

Elizabeth closes her eyes for a moment. "I can't."

Scott looks away.

"I have things to take care of." She explains, genuinely remorseful. "I'll be home within a fortnight."

She leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. "Tell Sera to start drafting a new statehood acceptance paper."

Scott exhales shakily, finally slipping her rifle strap over his shoulder. "You're coming home?" He states it like a question.

Elizabeth offers him a tremulous smile. "I'm coming home."

ꤠ

When she gets back to Montgomery, Elizabeth ignores Jackson calling for her in order to make her way up to her room.

He already knows, and so do the others, wherever they are. Word travels fast, and she had chosen to take the long way back.

She packs her bag with the bare necessities. One of the boys will watch after her other belongings. She writes brief goodbyes to the others, knowing it's better not to stick around much longer. 

Jackson grabs her arm when she steps back into the living room. " _Virginia. What do you think you're doing_."

Elizabeth is too tired to be afraid anymore. "I'm done. I surrendered. I'm leaving."

She takes a step towards the door.

Jackson yanks her back, and without even thinking about it, Elizabeth slaps him across the face.

Hard.

When she looks back on this series of moments that follow that slap, she won't remember it clearly and she will be thankful that she doesn't.

It happens both all at once and in slow motion.

Her bag is thrown across the room as Jackson rips it away from her, and then somehow they end up on the living room rug.

She knows she won't win this, but if Jackson's going to do this he's going to bleed as much as she does.

She drags her nails across his face, hopes that they scar, and Jackson smacks her head against the table in return, dazing her so bad she goes still for a minute. 

It's all he needs to pin her arms down with his knees. 

Her shirt rips, buttons skittering across the hardwood, and the next few minutes are nothing but _pain_ as Jackson presses the knife to her stomach.

She screams. 

Jackson doesn't even look up when he slams her head into the floor. 

She doesn't know what to do, or even if she's capable of doing anything.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to figure anything out.

Because that's when Caden throws himself at Jackson. 

Elizabeth pushes herself to her feet only to stumble into the table, but she keeps trying.

He's going to kill him, she thinks, and isn't sure which one she means. 

"No- Caden-" 

"What the hell is going on here?" It's startling enough that Caden and Jackson stop fighting each other.

Austin is strong and tall and scary when he's actually mad, and right now he's _pissed_.

His eyes scan over the room, and he pauses on Elizabeth.

Numbly, her hand comes up to touch her face. She furrows her eyebrows when her fingertips come away red.

Austin's face goes blank.

"You _fucking_ _bastard_." He hisses, turning towards Jackson so fast the motion makes her dizzy.

Austin crosses the room, shoves Jackson harshly enough that he's forced to take a step back. "You have three minutes to be gone or I _swear to god I will rip you apart with my **fucking bare hands**_."

Elizabeth flinches at the volume. She doesn't see what Jackson does, because then Caden is there, hands cupping her face to tilt it up, his own head ducked a little so he can meet her eyes.

She blinks slowly. Distantly, she hears Jackson saying something, hears Austin respond in nothing but furious Spanish too fast for her to understand, and then her knees buckle under her and the world goes black. 

ꤠ

David's there when she wakes up, the medical kit beside him. 

Caden's kneeling at her other side. 

The room is silent as David stitches her up. 

She makes the mistake of glancing down, and a sob tears its way out of her throat. 

He carved a _letter_ into her stomach. 

Wordlessly, Caden pulls off his own shirt and wraps it around her shoulders, leaving him in nothing but his undershirt. 

"Ginny-" David breathes. "You have to tell-"

"No, I don't." Elizabeth swallows, sitting up even though it's painful.

 _Nothing happened_ , she tells herself. Nothing happened. Caden stopped it. Nothing happened. 

"Liza-" Caden begins.

"It does not leave this room!" Elizabeth shouts, and Caden flinches.

She turns her fury to David. "You will tell _no one_."

David finishes stitching the letter up.

It's going to scar, she knows.

Elizabeth pulls her borrowed shirt tighter around her body as she climbs to her feet.

She stumbles, once, and Caden catches her arm.

She puts her hands over her face and exhales shakily. 

"Caden, hand me my bag."

"Gin-" David begins, and Elizabeth turns so fast she nearly falls. 

"I can't stay!" She screams. "Do you think I wouldn't stay, if I had a choice? I can't-"

"I wasn't going to ask you to," David says softly, like he's talking to a wild animal. 

Elizabeth sighs. "Then there's nothing to talk about. Where's Austin?"

"Outside," Caden stares at the floor, holding her bag out. 

She takes it from him. "I'll see you all on the other side of the war," she tells them, and then she walks away.

ꤠ

She finds Austin on the steps, his entire body shaking. 

Elizabeth sits down beside him, and for a moment she's so _angry_ , angry that all of this happened in the first place, that these were the parts they were forced to play here. There's no sign of what happened, now that she's buttoned Caden's shirt up and washed the blood off, except for her split lip. 

"Austin. You can't tell anyone about what you saw, understand? No one."

Austin looks at her, eyes haunted. "Ginny-"

"No one, Austin."

He nods. 

Tears well up in her eyes and she blinks them back. She wonders how many secrets Austin keeps for the rest of them. 

"I'm sorry," she says quietly before she gets up. 

She thinks about Alfred, feels for that dogwood tree back in Philadelphia, that little extension of Virginia there, and then she Steps over. 

She stands there until Alfred barrels his way out, and for a moment they both just stare at each other. 

She falls to her knees at Alfred's feet and sobs when he drops down beside her to wrap his arms around her. 

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth sobs out. 

Alfred just holds her tighter. "I know. I'm sorry, too, Lizzy." 


End file.
